


Good Does Not Equal Nice

by tielan



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Gen, Humor, Maria Hill has friends, Shovel Talk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-07
Updated: 2015-11-07
Packaged: 2018-04-30 10:18:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5160107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tielan/pseuds/tielan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He's not HYDRA and he never was. Or: The perils of dating Maria Hill. (At least, those perils which have nothing to do with Maria herself).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Good Does Not Equal Nice

**Author's Note:**

> Kind of sort of for Maria Hill Week - theme 'relationships'.

He’s not HYDRA and he never was. Oh, sure, he was friendly with Sitwell, but wasn’t everyone? That was the point of Sitwell – the guy that nobody suspected; a good agent, a solid guy, a cool head – exactly who you’d want backing you up.

Yes, he worked with the STRIKE teams. They were a little cliquey – and, sure, he envied that about them. They were _buddies_ , the kind of people who’d have your back through thick and thin.

And yes, he shook Alexander Pierce’s hand once at a function, got a compliment on his work with the STRIKE teams. But plenty of people shook Secretary Pierce’s hand in the course of the man’s career. Not all of them were HYDRA.

Okay, so maybe he realises that HYDRA was grooming him. Prepping him. They had to have a recruiting program, right? A way to pull agents into their organised plan for world domination. Given what they now know about the situation, they probably had a shortlist of people who could be ‘turned’ along the way – a conversation here, an encouragement there; and then one day you realise that, what the hell, it’s just a name because you already have the worldview – all men are created equal, but some are just a bit more equal than others.

That doesn’t make him HYDRA.

Besides, Nick Fury would never have pulled him in for the new Avengers project if he was HYDRA, right?

In addition to which, Maria Hill wouldn’t be kissing anyone she thought was involved with HYDRA. She wouldn’t be seen dead kissing someone from HYDRA – not unless they got dead shortly after. And he gets to kiss Maria Hill and he’s still alive; _ergo_ , he’s not HYDRA.

It’s as simple as that.

* * *

The new Avengers facility is big and shiny and bright and full of people scurrying about like ants.

“It’s kind of intimidating,” says a voice coming up next to him.

He glances at Sam Wilson, slightly surprised to be addressed. “I was thinking it’s kind of good to see. Productivity in harmony.” At the lifted eyebrows, he admits, “I missed S.H.I.E.L.D.”

“Yeah, I kind of know the feeling. Air Force,” Wilson says, as though anyone in this facility doesn’t know his history. “It matters, to be part of something bigger.”

“Exactly. And S.H.I.E.L.D, well, it was the best.”

“Except for the parts that were HYDRA.”

He’s pretty sure he manages an unexceptionable smile that contains no nervousness or anything that might give the man Captain America picked to stop HYDRA’s plan for world domination cause to think he had any connection to HYDRA. Oh, God, he hopes he’s managed it! “Except those.”

* * *

“Hey, are these seats taken?”

He’s more than a little startled by the question, and by the person asking it. And more startled by the person hovering impatiently at Colonel Rhodes’ elbow – Tony Stark, in a perfectly-fitted business suit and tie, looking distinctly out of place in the facility’s break area.

“If they were taken, Rhodey, he wouldn’t be sitting with his tablet out – no wonder you fit right in here – does _everyone_ here work lunch?”

The question of whether the seats are taken becomes moot as Tony Stark plunks his tray down in the empty chair across the table. Of _course_ the seats are available for the men in the Iron Man and Iron Patriot suits. Is that even a question?

“Some of us _work_ for a living, Tony.”

“I work for a living. I make modifications to the Iron Man suits. Which, I note, you haven’t yet thanked me for.”

Rhodes rolls his eyes. “Thank you for the new targeting systems, Tony.”

“They’re capable of locking onto an individual from a range of five miles. It’s based off the helicarrier technology – can you believe Hill won’t tell me the name of the techs who came up with that? You’d think I was going to poach them from out of her grabby little hands. And I’m working up to ten,” he says with a nod that gives every impression of him imparting confidential information over, never mind that he’s talking openly in the middle of a public space in an organisation that’s frequently boasted to have the biggest gossip pool in world intelligence. “When I’m done, Rhodey will be able to take out any threat whose biogenetic signature we have on record.”

Stark pulls out what looks like a glass slide from his pocket and taps it in the air between them. A network of lines and nodes appear on the slide.

He blinks and tenses. “That’s me?”

“Yep.”

“Don’t do that, Tony.” Rhodes smiles. It’s probably intended to be reassuring. “He’s just being Tony. You’re not a threat.”

“Not yet, anyway.”

Rhodes rolls his eyes as he digs his fork into his chili, clearly giving up on his buddy. “We wouldn’t do that; we’re the good guys.”

“Well, _sure_ we’re the good guys.” Stark taps the slide in the air between them and the little glowing network vanishes. “But nobody ever said we had to be _nice_ about it.”

* * *

Let’s not even _talk_ about the women.

* * *

The sports bar turned out to be an iffy choice for Date Night when he forgot that the World Series was playing. That’s before he glimpses the flash of red hair – black under blue neon – and a steady, inquisitive gaze that follows him, even as she heads for the restrooms.

It seems that Romanoff has eyes-on and isn’t going to fly under the radar.

* * *

Maximoff definitely has a gift – she can clear a room in five minutes or less. And while he likes to think that he’s got better nerves than most, it’s the way Maximoff sits down, lifts her head like a hunter scenting prey, and then turns to look directly at him.

The crawly feeling at his nape only goes away when he’s out of her line of sight.

* * *

All his bags are packed, he’s ready to go. The Quinjet’s waiting… Okay, so it doesn’t have a horn. It does have a disembarking passenger, however. The Cavalry’s brisk, clipped stride eats up the tarmac, and he flashes a quick grin at Maria, whose smile is brief, if warm.

He doesn’t merit a greeting from May as he passes, though. Just a cold and measuring eyeball.

* * *

Finding Cap in the common gym is a surprise. There are separate facilities for the Avengers and their immediate staff, so they rarely come down on high to mingle with the _hoi polloi_.

Rogers makes eye contact and gives him a brief nod before he goes back to pummelling the punching bag. He’d doesn’t look like he’s in a particularly good mood right now, which is fair enough – even supersoldiers have their off days. But that’s none of his business. Best to stay out of it. Keep a low profile. All that.

He gets on the machine, starts jogging, pacing himself as he goes. He’s got an hour before Maria surfaces from the triage meeting from the last mission, and while jogging isn’t his preferred exercise, it’s what’s available right now.

But the steady  _thud thud thud_ of the punches is distracting. 

He can’t help thinking that Steve Rogers is the man who’s fought HYDRA twice and come out alive both times. And no, he thinks as he reaches the two-mile mark and pushes himself a little harder, he’s not HYDRA, but the fact remains that they were readying him for recruitment, which means… Well, he doesn’t know what it means; he just knows he doesn’t like it.

Still. He’s got nothing to apologise for, and if he had sympathies with the idea of a more orderly world, that’s not the same as being HYDRA. Not at all.

Four miles. If he really stretches himself, maybe—

The doors to the gym slide open, and Maria walks in, sleek and elegant in one of her dresses – stunning beauty over a razor sharp mind. She catches his eye, gives him a nod, then goes over to Rogers, who seems to have finished beating on the punching bag and is unwrapping his hands – no gloves for Cap, old-school bandages will do.

He slows down to a jog, most definitely _not_ watching the conversation out of the corner of his eye. It’s not that he doesn’t trust Maria, it’s just...it’s Steve Rogers. Any guy would get nervous watching his girlfriend chatting with him.

Still, whatever Maria had to say to Rogers is brief. She’s already said it, and is coming over, a faint smile now growing on her lips. It’s the kind of smile that makes him contemplate asking if she’d debrief him and scrub his back in the shower. But...this is work, and her rule is that they keep things professional at work. So he just smiles back and slows the machine down to a walk, ready to cool down and make plans for the evening.

He grabs his water bottle and takes a swig. As he lowers the bottle, though, he realises Rogers is eyeing him with an expression that might be thoughtful, but which also might be considering a change in choice of punching bag.

Abruptly, he remembers that both Rogers and Stark have a thing for women in positions of authority.

 

* * *

Pepper thinks it’s a major success to get Maria out for a drink – and in New York, no less. Now that Maria’s not working for SI, it’s harder to keep in contact, but they try because they both know how rare it is to find women they can be friends with at their level in their respective jobs. And because they like each other, which is even rarer.

So far they’ve been through the teething troubles of the Avengers Facility, Pepper’s latest brush with sexist executives, and dealing with Tony Stark in ‘retirement’ mode.

“He keeps on making noises about buying a farm somewhere. I keep threatening to kill him and bury the body.” Pepper taps the toothpick and its olive on the edge martini glass and regards her friend. “What about that guy you were seeing? How’s that going?”

“He asked for a transfer out to S.H.I.E.L.D.” Maria shrugs one shoulder in a good approximation of indifference. “And we decided we’d step back, take it casual for a while.”

Which more or less means it's off. Pepper winces, but isn’t entirely surprised by the news. Reading between Maria’s lines is an exercise in knowing just how close the younger woman plays her cards. Also, after Tony came back from his last visit to the facility looking far too satisfied with himself, Pepper called Rhodey and asked some pointed questions. She’s learned to see the signs of ‘Tony Stark, Magnificent Bastard’ and to start worrying exactly what’s happened now.

_Believe me, Pepper, this was nice Tony._

_Yes, but did Maria’s boyfriend know that?_

Evidently not.

Although there _is_ a saying about heat and kitchens.

But she makes sympathetic noises, and tells herself that if this guy couldn’t handle the gamut of Maria’s friends, he probably wasn’t equipped to deal with Maria either.

 

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [In high and low places](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5161325) by [Keenir](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Keenir/pseuds/Keenir)




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